For Glory, For Honor
by TheJenkinsCurse
Summary: Daubeny was known as the heretic of the lands after his castle was besieged all those years ago, a brave and noble knight who was reduced to nothing but a crumbling wreck and a shiny set of armor. Before this, he was a renowned soldier of the Blackstone Legion, a fierce group that would one day be his undoing. What happened to this warden? What was his story? Spoilers Ahead.
1. The Tale

...And here I stand, with my back to the cliff, facing all odds in order to keep my kingdom from falling. Hit after hit after hit, I sustained myself through the battle. War horns in the distance confirmed the thought of reinforcements I was afraid of. Regaining my stance, I used my claymore to deflect any incoming attacks. I felt the rubble begin to slip as my foot braced more and more against the attacks, slowly sliding further towards the edge. I managed to gut an unlucky soldier, his body momentarily blocking any other soldiers from entering my reach.

I could barely hear the sound of my breathing over the chaos. I was panting heavily, trying to regain my balance after the last attack at me. I was surrounded, a thousand to one, facing certain doom, all on my own. I could feel my arms tire as they tried holding up the five pound steel long sword, faltering at the thought of another fight. Why hadn't they tried another attack on me? Simply killing a single soldier wasn't enough to keep them at bay.

And that's when I saw him. Slowly, from out of the crowd, a man began to get closer and closer. He was an entire head over any other soldier on the battlefield, and by the way the other men moved out of the way, he obviously commanded some form of respect. I knew all too well why. He unlatched his shield from his back and readied it against his sword. I also regained my original stance, knowing he would be my end, if it weren't for this cliff. I began plotting what moves he would take in order to accomplish my death, and I could easily tell he would try and knock me off. Sure, it wasn't honorable to do so, especially in a one on one battle, but there was a war going on. He needed his strength for later battles, and I knew he'd go for it. So, of course, I used it to my advantage.

The warlord suddenly shifted in the mud and bolted towards me, shield first, but I was already a step ahead of him. I parried to the left and let him charge too far forward. He stopped in time to meet the cliff face, but remained wobbly as he attempted to back away. I used this to strike swiftly at the viking, my sword cutting clean through his shoulder blade and spine. I could feel as my steel began to grind against his bone, smooth and swift. This obviously wouldn't be as easy for him to recover from. He cried out in pain and arched his back, dropping his sword in the mud and holding the wound.

I brought my sword around for another hit, this time striking him clean across his back laterally. This time the warlord yelped and couldn't seem to comprehend the pain. Lastly, I stood straight and brought my sword arm down, using my hand to gently push the man forward. In his wincing, he leaned forward (With a little help from me,) and tumbled over the side. I peered over, watching his body hit the cliff face once before descending below the treeline and disappearing from sight. The crowd behind me gasped, unsure how their leader seemed to be killed so quickly.

I sighed heavily, taking in a deep breath as I looked a the sight before me. In the distance, between where I was and the mountains in the distance, was one of the greatest castles ever constructed in the history of the world... and it was currently ablaze, filled with vikings and samurai. The smoke trailed high into the sky, no doubt visible for miles. I breathed deeply once more before turning away from the sight to face the onslaught of vikings from the northern realm of Valkenheim. Each of them a little weary after watching their leader die. They all had backed off a bit, giving me a bit of breathing room. But, I was still outnumbered, and I put the thought of winning out of my mind. These men were all here to kill me, and whatever was left of my regiment. I was prepared, though.

This world had been reduced to ashes time and time again, after the Great Fall a millennia ago. Now, three factions divided up the known world, constantly battling each other. Over what? What was the original goal of war? No one seems to know the true meaning of this fight anymore. It's simply always been this way. Everyone assumed war was just another part of life. But did it need to be? Who says we need to bleed and die for a cause no one knows about? If my honor weren't on the line, I'd drop my sword at this moment and let them slaughter me. But I knew I needed to go down swinging. I would not stand idly by as my land, my people, my home was torn apart. No, if they wanted what was mine, they needed to get through me first.

I smiled softly under my helmet, listening to the trees sway in the soft wind of Ashfeld, dusk just falling over the land. The beautiful scenery giving me some peace in my final moments. I felt the tug at my arms and the ache in my knees as I slowly came back to reality, and the situation I was facing. "For glory." I said to myself, low enough to give myself some courage. The reason I won't give up. The reason I wouldn't ever run from a fight. "For honor." I finished and raised my sword, just as the Valkenheim soldiers charged. I began my swing early to anticipate the fight as I became enveloped in darkness. I would not be known as a man who died without a fight.

I am Daubeny, and I will not go quietly into the night.


	2. Siege

"You never did tell us how you got out of there alive." Holden commented as he stirred the coals of the fire. The smoke from our camp rose into the morning sky, the embers floating around the air like bugs on a hot summer day. But now was spring, and it was undoubtedly Ashfeld's most pristine time of year. The trees swayed lightly in the cool breeze as birds chirped happy songs of the morning. It wasn't too hot that I was practically cooked alive inside of it, and yet not cold enough to chill me to the bone. The camp around us was bustling with activity, the group of knights on their way to the border Ashfeld had with the Myre, home of the Samurai.

"I always leave it out for a reason." I spoke, lifting my eyes up from the flames to stare at Cross in his gleaming Blackstone armor. He proudly wore the colors of his regiment, as did all Blackstone's, but Holden was practically the right hand man of Apollyon, the undisputed warlord. He was her most trusted servant, with Mercy being a close second. I could understand why she picked him, though. I've never seen Holden lose a fight in his life. The look of his menacing armor and giant halberd was terrifying on their own in battle.

"Because it's made up?" Mercy put in with a small chuckle. She sat to the left of me, turning her head in my direction. "I've heard you say the same story over and over again, and you always change it. This time it was a warlord, last time it was a berserker. Hell, you even changed the faction of the enemy team once."

"Everyone gets fuzzy on the details after a couple of years." I replied with a hint of bitterness.

"Don't let him fool you Cross, he was safe at home reading a good book when this all went down." To this, Holden Cross shrugged his enormous shoulders and continued to fumble with the logs. Mercy, a Peacekeeper with extraordinary skills, had fought by my side many times. Granted, she usually worked alone, and I being a mercenary meant I didn't see the same faces twice too often, somehow managed to run into the twin-bladed assassin time and time again. I had befriended Cross after a few run-ins with the law, and now, they saw me fit to join their organization as a sell sword, since, after all, I am a mercenary. Apollyon must've believed this raid to be important, or she wouldn't have hired me.

"Think those damned samurai will flee from battle as quickly as they did the last fight?" I overheard one of the grunts behind me ask.

"Of course, it'll be an easy win." Another replied. I chuckled lightly under my helmet. These soldiers obviously hadn't gone up against a true hero. Fights with them were never easy. I could mow through a hundred men easily, but once I faced an Orochi, or Raider, that's when things get complicated. I looked down at my palms, covered in gold plated armor. My blue and white robes shone in the sunlight, swaying gently in the breeze. I wore a gilded helm with winged fans on either side, almost an iconic staple among mercenaries at this point. Many soldiers knew, when I stepped onto the battlefield, a real fight was about to begin.

"Time to get moving." Holden finally spoke up as he stood and doused the flame. The black smoke soon turned white as we began to get our gear ready for the long hike ahead of us.

"Who are we capturing this time, anyway?" I asked, leaning in to speak to Mercy as we walked alongside the hundreds of knights marching in a chaotic mess of clanking and shouting.

"Today, we storm Omigi castle, on the waterfront. We're trying to get rid of a highly valued asset for the samurai, who is suspected to be there. You'll be storming the outside gate with Holden while I sneak inside and find him."

"And what if you get caught?" I questioned, wondering if she had thought this through.

"I won't." She replied simply, walking ahead of me to make sure I knew the conversation was done. I sighed softly, knowing something wasn't going to end right with this siege. But, a paycheck is a paycheck. As long as I made it through this campaign without dying, I'd get a hefty reward for my service with the Blackstone Legion. We marched on for days to get to the castle everyone was so eager to get to. And, when we finally arrived, it wasn't nearly what I thought it would be.

If I could describe Omigi castle in one word just from the look of it, I'd say impenetrable. From the distance I was at, it appeared to have thick, tall walls to prevent us from using siege engines to escalate them. Archer towers set up every hundred feet proved that even if we did get close, we'd lose a lot of men from arrows. It was nearly the size of a city itself, poking out of the canopy like a dragon peeking through the clouds. The walls of this fortress were riveted to allow archers to shoot anyone trying to scale the walls. It didn't help the entire thing was build into the side of a mountain, in a valley, with a river at the bottom. If these soldiers thought they could win, they were surely mistaken.

"We're not meant to take over this fort." Holden Cross came up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. His face was concealed behind his helmet, a menacing figure standing at my side. "We're just meant to distract the place until Mercy can sneak in and get the general. We'll lose some men, but it'll be worth it." I sighed at the sound of that. I was alright with not having to take the castle. But even trying to sustain ourselves long enough, it'd be an uncertain outcome at best.

"Will you be leading the charge?" I asked, looking back at him as he began to join in with the ranks of soldiers as they marched towards their doom.

"As always, Hervis." He said. It wasn't often people called me by my first name. I was known as Daubeny by anyone outside of my family. I suppose it was just Holden's way of showing our friendship. "Oh and, Daubeny, I expect to see you fight like you did in your tale." I could feel his grin under his helmet as he marched on, leaving me to look over the castle for a moment. I chuckled lightly at his final remark.

"Oh, this'll rival any story ever told."

* * *

I opened my eyes slowly as ash and embers floated around in the sky. I couldn't see much through the slits in my helmet, but what I could see, was chaos. Slowly, I managed to ascend to my hands and knees, looking around. Bodies on fire, siege engines broken, and the sound of metal on metal filling the air. The smell of death and fire filled my senses as I rose to my feet and looked around, disoriented. After a moment, I felt stable enough to grab my sword from the mud and wield it in my hands. I looked behind me and saw the charging troops of the Blackstone Legion, while in front of me, was practically a wall of bodies, a no-mans land from where I was to the castle walls. All we needed was to get a siege engine up to that wall, or maybe a battering ram. As long as we created a true front they needed to hold, Mercy could slip in and get this job done with.

"Daubeny!" Holden called out to my left. I turned to face him, and we both hid behind separate trees to take cover from an incoming volley of arrows. "We need you to find a way in. Release the gate and allow our troops to pass."

"Why me?" I asked back, concerned for my own well being.

"I'm sure you're one of the only people here who can handle it." He replied, short of breath. "Just get it done Hervis!" He made a break for a desolated siege tower, flipped onto its side. I groaned out and tried getting a peek at the castle. It was being pelted from catapults left and right. At least they were doing their jobs. Watching the towers begin to crumble from the attack, I began to conjure an idea. Looking over, I grabbed a grunt and pulled him behind the tree with me.

"Soldier." I said blankly. "Send a message to the siege master. Tell him to ready a volley of catapults when he sees that brazier lit." I pointed off into the distance, an array of large pans for holding the coals of fires during nights. They were currently unlit, which would be a great way to signal for an attack. "Tell him to aim all of them towards the front gate." I pushed the soldier back, and he stumbled through the mud towards the direction we came from. Hopefully he'd get the message in time. I scoured the battlefield for a way in. And then I found it.

I began to sprint towards a grouped of holed up men, all afraid of the storm of arrows. "Daubeny?" One of them asked in question as I began to mount of their spare horses. "What on God's Earth are you doing?"

"Commandeering." I replied hopefully. When I saw the poor ignorant idiot hadn't been properly educated, I explained. "I'm borrowing your steed." But before he had a chance to protest, a volley of arrows sent all of the men hiding once more. This was my chance. I charged the horse through the treeline and into the open field in front of me, where hundreds of my fallen brethren lay. No-mans land was a desolate place where no one survived... No one except me.

I could see the archers were finished loading their arrows, the commander telling them to make their aim at me, the only moving thing in sight. I smirked under my helmet as I got closer and closer. Twenty meters, ten, five... I forced my horse to stay on its current path - right into a decapitated siege tower. The only one to make it close enough to the walls was burnt to a crisp, but could have the possibility to let me scale it. I planted my feet on the top of the horse and launched myself up, grabbing onto a wooden pole. I managed to climb up and inside of the tower just as the archers released their volley, missing me by only a mere inches as I hid behind the singed walls of the siege tower. I didn't look down in fear they had gotten the horse.

I made my way up the corroded staircase, ascending towards the top. Finally, when I reached the top of the tower, I ran into a group of soldiers, obviously here to stop me. I cut through three no problem when I first made my way into the crowd. I pushed another man off of the side, and chopped through another in an instant. I parried a few swords as I began to get more defensive. When I got more confident in my skills, I began to strike my way through the enemy lines, only occasionally running into a troublesome foe. I finally managed to fight my way to the actual wall of the tower - I had done it. All that was left was to light the brazier. I ran on towards the unlit pots of coals, grabbing a torch from its sconce on my way. And, before any other soldiers could stop me from my goal, I dropped the fire into the brazier and watched as it lit up the walls with a crackling glow. The color of the fire matched the sky as dawn began to set, the sun just over the mountains in the distance. I looked around at the countless soldiers prepared to kill me, and their faces lit up with horror.

The enemies began to run away, dropping their swords and shields in the process as they stumbled over one another to get away from me. But, that's when I learned they weren't running from me. I turned around, and watched as the entire sky was blocked out by flaming balls of fire, headed straight for me. I was glad to see that the siege master had gotten my message, but at the same time I was wishing I had thought of a way out of its line of fire.

I did the only thing I could do in that moment - I hid behind a wall protruding from the castle's defenses, and prepared myself for the oncoming volley of destruction aimed straight for me.


	3. Glory

When my head lifted up again, I was in hell. Not the literal, for I would never arrive there. No, I was meant for a good, well-off afterlife dining with the gods themselves. They would boast about their great deeds and amazing stories, but none shall best mine. I will be invited to ascend to godhood, to which I will decline respectfully, for I would not even compare to one. The kind of hell I was experiencing was the everyday soldiers life. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, crumbling walls threatened to give out at any moment. Corpses lay in every possible space they could take up. It was a nightmare that I'd never wish to experience again.

But nevertheless, I was still on an enemy castle, and I still needed to get through this day. I slowly lifted myself off the ground and looked around, taking in the horrific sight. No matter how terrible it was, I could not take my eyes away from it. They were enemy soldiers, they were the bad guys. But still, my mind could not erase the inhumane way of dealing with them. After all, they were just posted here. It was only their job to try and protect this place. If I were ever to plan the defense of a castle, I would make sure to account for catapults. I wouldn't want to die this way.

That's when the wall, once again, shifted slightly under me. It was enough to send me to my knees and hold onto the nearby wall, as another tremor went through it. And another. And another. Finally, it stopped with the sound of a loud bang - the battering ram had finally been able to punch through the gate.

"Hervis!" I heard Holden call from below me. I leaned over the railing and saw the Lawbringer wielding his halberd with great pride. Even though his face was masked underneath his helmet, I could imagine the smirk on his face. "Well done, I'll make sure Apollyon pays you well." I mused at the sound of this. After all, if it weren't for me, we'd still be getting slaughtered on the other side of the castle walls. We were now able to cause a real problem for the people operating it, and maybe even draw our Samurai general out from hiding. Perhaps he was already killed from the initial bombardment of the catapults.

"It was all for you, Cross." I cheered back and raised my sword momentarily. After this, I turned and made my way towards the center courtyard, where the fighting had began. Defenders versus attackers. Both sides were giving equal effort, and both sides were losing the same amount of men. The battle was damn near locked in a stalemate. It was time to change that.

I found myself standing over a ledge, overlooking the battle spread out before me. There were muddy bodies laying across the dead grass, and crumbling buildings threatened to crush any unwary fighter. I looked straight below me, at the group of men fighting. It was close, and appeared to be an average Kensei versus one of our Wardens. Under normal circumstances, I would've let the battle finish, but we were pressed for time. I drew my sword and heaved myself over the ledge, collapsing on top of the Kensei and impaling him with my sword. It sunk straight through his collarbone and glided alongside his spine, no doubt severing his vertebrae.

I felt myself unsettled by the feel it made through the sword in my hands. The slight grinding of bone-on-sword always gave me a chill. The Kensei, paralyzed with my sword in him, flinched and found his muscles twitching and clenching. No doubt his body was freaking out at the disconnection of the brain to the muscles, and I'd bet all of his muscles were frozen in place, probably extremely painful if he could even feel it. Finally, after deciding it was the end of his life, I pulled my sword from him and watched his body collapse, limp on the ground. I stared down at my weapon for a moment, noticing the blood covering the adorned blade.

What was the point of all this shiny, ceremonial looking gear if it was covered in blood? I wasn't sure how I felt, or why the death of that Kensei was so unsettling to me. I had killed hundreds of them before no problem. Why did this one feel so terrible? So inhumane? Was a veil lifted from my face? Could I finally see the true horror of war? Was I finally experiencing the pain and fatigue and distraught of all those I had killed? Will their ghosts forever haunt me, even after I'm long dead? I felt as though the visage of every man I had ruthlessly taken the life of were showing up on the battlefield, each and every one coming for me to undo the things I had done. I felt horrible for the sudden moment that the Kensei's body fell into its resting place in the mud.

My entire thought process of the Kensei happened within only a few seconds. I couldn't afford to spend much time thinking, because if I did, I would certainly be killed. I charged into battle, slaying any who came into contact with me. Our forces began to push up through the thick defenses given by the Samurai. Although I resented both the Vikings and the Samurai, I had a certain amount of respect for them, albeit grudgingly. The samurai always had a sort of honor about them, a way they carried themselves. They never showed off or flaunted their skills before a battle. They simply went on fighting, and if they died, they died. If they won, they won. They didn't tiptoe around what could be the end.

The Vikings on the other hand were the exact opposite - they wore little armor to show off their muscle and hardness in battle. It was almost a statement to be made, when they charged into battle without anything on. While us Knights had gleaming pieces of metal to keep us safe, they simply relied on their skill to keep them alive. They were brutes from the North, and undoubtedly my least favorite. They were too barbaric. They couldn't even be called a faction, simply a band of raiders who can only survive in their harsh environment by stealing food and supplies from us and the Samurai. It was foolish of them to try and live where nothing grows, and the scarcity of how they fight proves that. Sure, the Knights weren't too great in all honesty, just some simple men looking for shining things and a good fight. We, however, don't rely on others for resources. We make our own, in Ashfeld. We're sort of the mixture of the other faction's beliefs - We get things done simply, but we look good while doing so.

I looked around the area when the courtyard was clear of defenders. They had all been killed, thanks to me. If I hadn't rode into the castle on horseback, we'd all still be outside the gate, getting shot at with arrows. My gleaming armor in the sunlight most likely reflected that of Mars or Apollo. Songs will be sung about my heroic ventures into enemy gates, by myself, and allow an army to pass through. I could see it now, the paintings, the sonnets, the myths. The very thought brought vigor to my muscles and peace to my mind. But, as I searched, my eyes caught onto something very interesting - something that could bring the certainty of immortality in song and story up to a promise. Mercy, with her sword and dagger, dancing around a formidable Orochi. His gleaming armor and sword made it clear he was the man we were assaulting this castle for. A smile plastered my face as I charged forward. While the army began to make its way into the halls and rooms of the castle, killing any more opposition and eventually moving on to the next courtyard to take from the grasp of the Samurai defense, I went off in search of a way to claim my victory over that Orochi.

And find a way, I did. My boots clambered up the cobble steps as I scaled the large central tower. the constant assault of catapults hitting the castle sent shudders through the walls, and the bricks threatened to crumble down on top of me if I lingered. This, combined with the thought of glory, caused me to sprint up the stairs to help Mercy with her kill. Finally, I reached the last of the steps and found myself atop a large scouting tower, connected to the main cathedral by a single bridge. After a few moments of analyzing the scene, I concluded the general was trying to flee the castle. My eyes were brought to the mantle of the tower, where the Peacekeeper's blade cast sparks across the area as they collided with the smooth katana wielded by the Orochi.

I instantly surged forward to help, but caught myself. If Mercy were to die, it'd be her fault. I would never dishonor myself into unfair odds against someone. That wasn't the way of Wardens. If Mercy couldn't kill him, then I'd have to. I watched, patiently, as the two continued their spar. One hit after another, Mercy began to fail against the assault from the assassin. Finally, the blade struck her in the shoulder, blood covering the Orochi's blade, as he began to prepare for her decapitation. I was not above watching my allies get beheaded, however. I stepped forward and bashed my shoulder into his side, sending him into the pillar beside him. He grunted and resumed his stance.

I looked down at Mercy one last time, seeing that she was trying to crawl away. Good, she was still alive at least. I turned my attention back to the Orochi, who had charged forward and prepared to attack. With one last breath, I lifted my blade to block his and prepared for a fight that I may not win. If Mercy couldn't finish this on her own, I would, without a doubt, stand no chance against him. But as of now, the only thing that mattered was glory... and Honor.


	4. Honor

My blade had just barely stopped the Orochi's, but the deflection itself was perfect, I was able to halt his attack, while turning our skirmish from defensive to offensive in one move. I repelled him back before going in to stun the man, a head shorter than me, hitting his helmet with the hilt of my broadsword. It did as was intended and kept the Orochi from fleeing, while giving me ample time to bring down the sword into his side. It only glided across though, as he recovered quickly, as all Orochi's did, but it cracked his right side armor. At least I was making progress in wearing down his defenses.

The Orochi spoke something in his language, although it was indecipherable to me. For all I knew, he could be begging for his life at that moment, but the steel voice he used made that seem unlikely. If the Orochi wanted to run, I'd no doubt try to stop him. But, if he wished to be taken as a prisoner and live another day, I would honor the wish, as would any noble fighter in these times. I began a barrage of quick attacks, hoping to confuse the Samurai in my random, almost spastic attacks. But, due to the skill of the fighter no doubt, he expertly deflected each attack, and on one of my swings, was able to not only deflect me, but knock me into one of the pillars holding up the canopy above us. The wood structure cracked as the heavy armor I wore took the brunt of the force, snapping some of the old, corroded logs holding the tower in place. I grunted at the contact, hitting my head along the beam.

The Orochi brought his blade down onto me twice before I could recover. Once again the armor took most of the impact, but it was still easy to tell he was slicing at my chest and neck. When I recovered, i managed to begin my attacks again, the Orochi again able to deflect most of them. I got a few good hits in though, bot of us draining in strength as the battle waged on. Still, I had no intention to die today, and would like to see tomorrows sunlight. So, I didn't slow down - in fact, I felt a new vigor in my as I fought, the adrenaline in my blood surging my attacks to be stronger, faster, more deadly. The Orochi's blade could not hold back all of the force I was putting into it, and I even ended up shouting with pride as I hit the Samurai with my shoulder, "Pitiful!"

I hit the poor bastard so hard he flew backwards onto the ground. Although he quickly recovered, I still managed to get another hit in on his calf. He was wearing down even more now, no doubt about to give in. Then again, this wasn't a common Viking or Samurai. This was a leader, a general, who would not lose his years of training so easily. He began to back up, still facing me, as we crossed over the bridge that led into the cathedral. The tower we were on, as well as the main structure, was still being bombarded with catapults, sending waves through the thin bridge we were now on.

Our blades collided with one another, a rain of sparks being sent in all directions while we countered perfectly to each others attacks. I was getting used to his moves, while he was getting used to mine. He no doubt had killed hundred of Wardens before, just as I had killed hundreds of Orochi. The two of us were evenly matched, but just because I had honor, didn't mean I needed to always keep things fair. I dodged one of his attacks and butted his head again with my sword, prepared to throw the Samurai off the bridge and end the fight. As I did so, though, a catapult launched itself into the bridge, breaking it in half and sending us both falling. I grabbed on to the side of it, as well as the Orochi, and each of us hoisted ourselves up. The Orochi was up first though, and I was at his mercy.

To my surprise however, he backed away slightly as I regained my stance, which was closer to the broken end of the bridge. It was dipping down now to the lack of support, meaning the Orochi had the high ground. Still, I was grateful for him staying his blade while I recovered. True honor wasn't found in polite solutes before a fight, it was shown during feats of strength in the middle of one.

We each seemed to share a moment of compliance with one another, understanding one of us would not make it off this bridge alive. It was this sort of ordeal that brought a lot of enemies close to one another. Different sides of the same coin, my father would say. But war was war, and where there was war, there were warmongers.

We began our attacks once more, fighting in a linear style along the thin, half destroyed bridge. At one point he managed to force my steps backwards until I was almost completely off the bridge. But, I retaliated appropriately, forcing the Orochi to do as I did. Our battle carried on, with each of us preferring to bring the fight to more stable ground. He became defensive, I became offensive, and soon, we found ourselves fighting atop the cathedral's high walkways.

Unfortunately, the Orochi got the better of me and knocked me onto the ground, about to put his blade through the gut. That's when a large, curved poleaxe found itself lodged in the Orochi's neck, freezing him in place. I only began to render what had happened when the burly Lawbringer behind him lifted up the poleaxe into the air, with the Orochi still embedded onto the spike, and abruptly kicked it out from under him, sending the Orochi to the ground, lifeless.

Holden Cross held out a hand to me, which I reluctantly took. "I was in the middle of something." I told him, a bit of strain in my voice as I tried to breathe. Holden let a chuckle out.

"You need to watch that ego, Daubeny. It'll get you killed someday. Hell, it already would have if I wasn't here to save you. Again." I had to admire his act of friendship, but it was unnecessary. Sure, I liked to live. But where's the honor in such an act? Either way, what's done is done, and dead men don't care about honor.

"Mercy is in the tower, badly hurt. Send some men to get her, I'll report back to our lovely leader." I began to walk away from Holden, knowing we still had half the fort to recover from the dug in Samurai. But for Holden, Mercy and I, we were finished. It was time to head back to warm food and a comfy bed... And a rather moody Blackstone leader.


End file.
